Omar killed poor Ablook, my black sheep, over the bows and 'straked' his
blood upon them, the three _Ma-allimeen_ came on board this boat to eat
their dish, and I followed the old Arab fashion and ate out of the wooden
dish with them and the Reis 'for luck,' or rather 'for a blessing' as we
say here; and it seems that this gave immense satisfaction.

My Reis wept at the death of the black sheep, which used to follow him to
the coffee-shop and the market, and 'was to him as a son,' he said, but
he ate of him nevertheless. Omar surreptitiously picked out the best
pieces for my dinner for three days, with his usual eye to economy; then
lighted a fire of old wood, borrowed a cauldron of some darweeshes, cut
up the sheep, added water and salt, onions and herbs, and boiled the
sheep. Then the big washing copper (a large round flat tray, like a
sponging bath) was filled with bread broken in pieces, over which the
broth was slowly poured till the bread was soaked. Next came a layer of
boiled rice, on the top of that the pieces of boiled meat, and over all
was poured butter, vinegar and garlic boiled together. This is called a
_Fettah_, and is the orthodox dish of darweeshes and given at all
_Khatmehs_ and other semi-religious, semi-festive, semi-charitable
festivities. It is excellent and not expensive. I asked how many had
eaten and was told one hundred and thirty men had 'blessed my hand.' I
expended 160 piastres on bread, butter and vinegar, etc. and the sheep
was worth two napoleons; three napoleons in all, or less--for I ate for
two days of the mutton.

The three _Ma-allims_ came on board this boat, as I said and ate; and it
was fine to hear us--how polite we were. 'A bit more, oh _Ma-allim_?'
'Praise be to God, we have eaten well--we will return to our work'; 'By
the Prophet, coffee and a pipe.' 'Truly thou art of the most noble
people.' 'Oh _Ma-allim_, ye have honoured us and rejoiced us,' 'Verily
this is a day white among days,' etc. A very clever Egyptian engineer, a
pupil of Whitworth's, who is living in a boat alongside mine, was much
amused, and said, 'Ah you know how to manage 'em.'

I have learnt the story of the two dead bodies that hitched in my
anchor-chain some time ago. They were not Europeans as I thought, but
Circassians--a young man and his mother. The mother used to take him to
visit an officer's wife who had been brought up in the hareem of the
Pasha's mother. The husband caught them, ki